Adieu
by Aiwritingfic
Summary: After his diagnosis, Tezuka says goodbye. Three chapters, character death. With alternate happy ending.
1. Goodbye

First posted to my LJ writing archive on February 12, 2007.

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**Title**: Goodbye  
**Characters**: Atobe, Tezuka, implied SanaTez  
**Rating**: Gen / PG-13 (implied future character death)  
**Summary**: Tezuka gives Atobe some news.  
**Warnings**: Implied future character death.  
**Recommended music**: Adieu (from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack; download link available from this story in my writing archive)  
**Author's notes**: Close to the beginning of the Adieu arc. Parallel to the Playground universe, but exists separate from the Playground arc. Dedicated to **darthclaire**.

* * *

"Kindly repeat that." 

Tezuka gave Atobe a long-suffering look, one that asked Atobe if he had been listening to Tezuka talk on the rare occasion that Tezuka had something he actually wanted to say. "I came to say goodbye."

"Where are you going?" Atobe asked, not looking up from his papers. He signed one more. "When are you coming back? You look all too serious for this to be a trip to Germany."

"It isn't a trip to Germany." Tezuka was implacable, calm and composed. Atobe would later wonder how Tezuka managed it. "I have a year, two perhaps."

"A year for what, Tezuka?" Atobe signed another document.

"To live."

"Very funny." Atobe glared at Tezuka, pen pausing. "I will be with you in a moment, so there's no need to get my attention like that," he said, and waved vaguely in the air. "There's coffee, tea, and alcohol over there. Go pour one to occupy yourself. Anything. Just stop making bad jokes like that."

Tezuka stood, and soon the sound of a bottle being unstoppered could be heard. Over the sounds of soft pouring, and the smell of scotch, Atobe thought he could faintly hear Tezuka say, "I wish I was joking."

That gave Atobe pause.

The pen was laid down, and Atobe rang his secretary. "Take these," he said, indicating the signed pile. "I'll be going over these later. I want no interruptions, none at all, until I tell you otherwise." Efficiently, the woman gathered the documents and left. Atobe stood, stretching. Instead of joining Tezuka, he walked over to the picture window, looking out at the rest of Tokyo.

After a while, he spoke. "Explain, Tezuka."

"Advanced cancer. They found it last week."

Atobe shook his head, giving Tezuka a sharp look. "You look too healthy to have advanced cancer. This is in poor taste, Tezuka."

"If you are busy, Atobe, I will leave you to your work," Tezuka said, frostily. He put his glass down and stood. "I merely thought you would appreciate knowing sooner rather than later."

"Wait," Atobe said. Tezuka paused.

Sitting heavily, Atobe gestured to the sofa beside him. "Sit. Ore-sama wants to look at you." He had not spoken of himself as Ore-sama in years, Atobe thought as soon as he had said it. "_I_ want to look at you," he amended.

Perhaps it was the lapse back into the old _Ore-sama_.

"I was not aware Insight utilised x-ray vision." Tezuka sat, nevertheless, and did not flinch as Atobe gave him a glare, which segued into a careful once-over. Up close, it was now visible--the slight furrow of Tezuka's brow, the tenseness that was more pronounced than usual.

"Does Sanada know?"

Tezuka nodded. "Aa."

"And how is our Emperor taking it?"

"Like a man." Tezuka looked vaguely proud. Atobe wanted to hit him, to slap away that look in Tezuka's eyes. Trust Tezuka to feel proud of Sanada when Tezuka had two years to live. They were thirty-two. Men like Tezuka Kunimitsu did not die at the age of thirty-two. Or thirty-three. Or thirty-four.

It was a few moments before Atobe realized he was staring, again. "I-- Tezuka. Treatment. What kind of treatment are you going to use?"

Tezuka shook his head. "It is terminal. The doctors have ... " Here, Tezuka trailed off, and he managed to look wry. "They _assured_ me that if medical advances are made and there is a possible cure, they will tell me. In the meantime, I will be taking painkillers for the pain. It--"

For a moment, Atobe thought he saw regret in Tezuka's eyes, but then Tezuka was continuing again. "I have accepted this. My priority is to live the two years as comfortably as possible, with a minimal amount of disruption. Perhaps I will be lucky and I will have three, perhaps even five years."

"Three, perhaps even five. Tezuka, you won't live to see forty," Atobe snapped, eyes flashing as he rounded on him. "You haven't even thought of alternative avenues. Let me call some friends. I know some people in the medical research field who may be working on something like this, or know someone who is. They'll--"

"--use me as a lab rat for tests and experiments until my time runs out. Thank you, but no." To Atobe's eternal annoyance, Tezuka actually seemed not to want this.

"Tezuka, these men and women work in Europe. Some are in Germany. There are also a few in America and one in Brazil." Atobe stood, pacing now. "You know they have excellent experimental medicine there. How can you--"

"There is no need. Your efforts are appreciated, but I would prefer to live out my last days here, the way I choose, rather than chase a nebulous and uncertain cure to the end."

"You stubborn fool, can you not see there is still hope? They may have a cure, you never know, how can you give up halfway? Have you finally lost all the spine and backbone you--"

"I thank you to kindly mind my pride and my dignity before you trample on them again. I will be the judge of the sum of whatever backbone I still possess." Tezuka's face was now closed and impassive, and Atobe sighed, retreated before the stone wall. He closed his eyes.

They sat in silence, Tezuka unmoving, making no noise. He was so still Atobe actually cracked an eye open to see if Tezuka was still there. He was, but he was sitting, one arm on an armrest, and his eyes were closed as if he was gathering strength for the next step.

When Atobe finally spoke, it was bitter and accusing. "I don't know how you expect me to just sit here and watch you fade away, Tezuka."

"I appreciate the friendship we have," Tezuka said, and he stood. "I would like to keep it for the remainder of my time here. Don't give me that look, Atobe. The world will continue to turn whether or not I am around. _My_ last days. _My_ way."

Atobe passed a hand over his eyes. "Leave, Tezuka. We'll continue this some other time."

"You know where to find me."

And with that, Tezuka was gone.

Hearing the door click behind Tezuka, Atobe finally allowed himself to slump. The tension in his shoulders was palpable. He would have to visit his masseuse three days ahead of schedule. Then Atobe kicked himself mentally. Hang the masseuse, Tezuka was dying.

... _Tezuka_ was dying.

"Kami-sama," Atobe said, voice cracking a little in his large and now empty office. "Why _him_?"

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Please comment if you read this. Thank you! 


	2. Moving In Place

First posted to my writing archive on March 24, 2007.

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**Title**: Moving In Place  
**Characters**: Sanada, Fuji, Tezuka  
**Rating/Warnings**: PG-13  
**Summary**: Fuji keeps Tezuka company until Sanada gets home.  
**Author's Notes**: Standalone, but can be seen as part of the Adieu arc if you wish. First posted in draft form to **kat8cha**'s journal here as an anon-drabble. This version is final.  
Dedicated to **criskanashiro**. Thanks for being a fan. 

* * *

When Tezuka opened the door, he was presented with a cactus that flowered. "Come in," he said, stepping back to allow Fuji to enter.

* * *

Sanada eyed the unfamiliar shoes in the entryway, and then walked into the living room, where his eyes fell on two figures on the couch. Fuji raised a finger to his lips, and gently smoothed Tezuka's hair down again. "He fell asleep watching a movie," he said, quietly. "I didn't want to move him."

"You shouldn't tire him," Sanada said, gruffly, but the black thunderclouds on his face lifted a little. Setting his briefcase down, Sanada bent, and without asking Fuji for permission, scooped Tezuka out of Fuji's lap.

Tezuka stirred, his eyes opening. "Fu-- Gen," he said, and looked up, eyes unfocused, until he realized where he was. Tezuka offered Sanada a small half-smile, and gave Sanada's arm a light squeeze. "Welcome back. Put me down. I can walk."

Sanada's arms tightened around Tezuka, and he shook his head. "Allow me. I seldom get the chance."

Tezuka gave him a look, but he nodded, right arm reaching up to Sanada's shoulder where he took hold, left arm slipping around to Sanada's back. They disappeared into the bedroom.

Three minutes later, Sanada emerged again. "Fuji, join me for tea."

"Of course," Fuji said. He sat, quietly, as Sanada boiled water. Sanada didn't ask, and merely set out two teabags and teacups, poured two cups, and set a tray with two cups on the coffee table. Fuji noted that both bags were green tea, but chose not to speak.

Sanada did not seem eager to break the silence either. The electric kettle turned off with a click, and Sanada poured water into the cups. Fuji accepted his with a light nod of thanks. They sipped lightly, neither of them making more noise than absolutely necessary.

"He's gotten lighter, and weaker," Sanada said, quietly. "I told him to leave his job, and he actually listened to me without arguing the point."

"Maa, he's always been pragmatic. It wouldn't make sense to go when one cannot avoid naps in the afternoon." Fuji's eyes flickered over to the closed door of the bedroom. "I hope he's warm."

"He is." Sanada half-snarled at the insinuation that he wasn't taking care of Tezuka. "His medication is by his bedside if he needs anything. Once you leave, I will be, too."

"I see," Fuji said. He watched Sanada's fingers stroke the side of the cup, and waited until Sanada had gulped down the tea and put the teacup down heavily. "You don't go back anymore."

Sanada gave him a look at the sudden change of topic, and shook his head. "He can't."

"And by extension, neither can you."

Fuji's words were said in the manner of an observation, but Sanada turned to Fuji with a scowl on his face. "I merely tolerate you for his sake. Do not forget that."

"So scary," Fuji said, standing, setting the teacup down. "Saa, it's getting late. Please tell Kunimitsu I've left."

Sanada's jaw tightened at the familiar address, and he set it grimly. "I will," he said, flatly, staring straight ahead. "See yourself out."

Fuji nodded. Quietly, he left the room. Sanada listened to the sound of the shoe closet opening and closing, and the shuffling of shoes and feet. He didn't like Fuji, but Tezuka and Fuji's old friendship was to be respected. It did not mean Sanada needed to be civil to Fuji beyond the bare minimum society dictated. He stood and walked to the sink with the cups and set them down, but made no move to wash them. It wasn't as if Tezuka would be coming out looking for them anytime soon.

Fuji's voice came from the entryway. "Ne, Sanada-san ... if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

Sanada didn't answer, and he didn't move until he heard the door open and close again.

* * *

Tezuka stirred when Sanada joined him, eyes opening as he was turned onto his back. "Gen," he said, softly, submitting and responding weakly to the hard kiss Sanada pressed onto him. Tezuka's hands reached up, lightly tangling in the hair at the nape of Sanada's neck.

"Rest," Sanada said when he finally pulled away. He stroked Tezuka's jaw gently, and Tezuka nodded, closing his eyes again. Sanada stayed there even after Tezuka's breath had evened out, nuzzling limp brown hair and staring at everything and nothing at all.

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Comments/concrit/bashcrit loved! 


	3. Adieu

First posted to my LJ writing archive on February 11, 2007.

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**Title**: Adieu  
**Characters**: (in unrelated sequences) Oishi/Eiji, Atobe, Sanada, Fuji. (Implied: SanaTez and FujiTez, possibly one-sided AtoTez.)  
**Rating**: Gen / PG-13 (implied character death)  
**Summary**: We mourn our seperate ways.  
**Word count**: 795  
**Warnings**: Mourning fic/songfic. Implied character death.  
**Author's notes**: Ending to the Adieu arc. Parallel to the Playground universe, but exists separately.  
**Recommended music**: Adieu (download link available from this fic in my LJ archive) - lyrics included below.  
Lyrics by Brian Richy Music and Arrangement by Yôko Kanno Performed by Emily Bindiger

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_Been a fool, been a clown / Lost my way from up and down / And I know, yes I know  
And I see it in your eyes / That you really weren't suprised at me at all / Not at all  
And I know by your smile it's you._

* * *

Sitting on the sofa, Oishi faced his aquarium, watching-but-not-watching as the fish within continued to weave in and out of the decorative seaweed Oishi had placed inside. He breathed, trying to tell himself again that this happened, that it was normal. This was not unexpected. They had known for months. But his chest tightened again, and he closed his eyes. 

"Oishi," Eiji said, and Oishi could feel Eiji's arms wrap around him. Oishi turned, and his arms tightened around Eiji, who somehow seemed to know what Oishi needed.

"I miss him," Oishi said, and he couldn't help the tremor in his voice. "He was ready, he was prepared ... but even though we knew, I ... I... Eiji, I--"

"Shh," Eiji said, and he stroked Oishi's back soothingly and whispered in his ear. "I know, Oishi."

* * *

_Don't care for me, don't cry / Let's say goodbye, Adieu.  
It's time to say goodbye / I know that in time  
It will just fade away / It's time to say goodbye._

* * *

"Stupid, stupid, stupid stubborn man," Atobe hissed, seething. 

_"You know they have excellent experimental medicine there. How can you--"_

_"There is no need. Your efforts are appreciated, but I would prefer to live out my last days here, the way I choose, rather than chase a nebulous and uncertain cure to the end."_

_"You stubborn fool, can you not see there is still hope? They may have a cure, you never know, how can you give up halfway? Have you finally lost all the spine and backbone you--"_

_"I thank you to kindly mind my pride and my dignity before you trample on them again. I will be the judge of the sum of whatever backbone I still possess."_

"Foolish coward," Atobe muttered. "Pride and dignity. What use are they when you aren't around to nurse them, ahn?" He swallowed, forcing the lump in his throat further down, and then stood, walking to the plate glass windows. There, he blinked away the hot moisture that welled in his eyes.

The CEO of Japan's largest conglomerate did not cry. Even if he had lost a friend who had given him more stability than he cared to admit.

_"Don't give me that look, Atobe. The world will continue to turn whether or not I am around. __My_ last days. _My_ way."

"Stupid, stubborn, idiot," Atobe said to no one in particular as he stood, eyes directed outside, but looking within. "As if it would ever be the same without you."

* * *

_I stand alone, and watch you fade away like clouds / High up and in the sky  
I'm strong and so cold / As I stand alone  
Goodbye, So long, Adieu._

* * *

Sanada drank again, the tequila burning his throat, hot, choking, burning. His fist clenched on the counter. _Not enough, not nearly enough._ It was his seventh now, and he had long abandoned the lime juice and salt in favor of merely tossing them back. 

He had never had so many in one night, Sanada knew. He thought he felt a hand land on his arm, and he turned. Instead of hazel eyes and a furrowed brow, Sanada was met with an empty bar. The reminder of that absence made his heart wrench, and he closed his eyes to steady himself (from the liquor, he insisted) before he opened them again.

"Perhaps that's enough for tonight," the bartender said, taking away the empty glass as Sanada dropped it to the counter wearily, his movement slow and lethargic.

Hearing the voice, Sanada looked up, eyes narrowed. "Another," he barked at the bartender, daring the other to contradict him. The man didn't dare disobey.

_He_ would have been firm, Sanada thought, eyeing his new drink. With another grimace, he tossed the drink back to join its predecessors.

Eight ...

"Another."

... nine ...

"Another."

... ten ...

"Another."

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_Oh how I love you so / Lost in those memories / And now you've gone  
I feel the pain / feeling like a fool / Adieu  
My love for you burns deep / Inside me, so strong / Embers of times we had  
And now here I stand lost in a memory_

* * *

Fuji stroked the picture frame, and his dry eyes stared intently at it, tracing the proud sweep of the other man's jaw. His fingers smoothed the light brown hair, knowing he would not be able to do this in real life ever again. 

"Farewell, Tezuka," he said, softly, whispering it into the nothingness.

* * *

_I see your face and smile._

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Please comment if you read this. Thank you! 


	4. Illusionary Scenes From An Italian Resta

First posted to my writing archive on March 26, 2007.

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**Title**: Illusionary Scenes From An Italian Restaurant (or, Never Saying Adieu)  
**Characters**: Tezuka, Fuji, Sanada, Atobe. Mentions of other Rikkai and Seigaku characters.  
**Rating**: Gen  
**Wordcount**: 960, because I didn't think it needed 40 more words.  
**Summary**: An alternate (happy) ending for the Adieu arc, where everyone lives to a ripe old age.  
**A/N**: **atamagaitai** wanted to know what life would be like if Tezuka recovered from the illness in the Adieu arc. This is dedicated to her. Apologies for the title--I had to use Billy Joel's song titles in a fic somewhere.

* * *

1. 

When he surfaced from the anesthesia, it was to Sanada's sleeping form slumped in the chair beside the hospital bed, Fuji's too-bright eyes, Atobe's shout of jubilation, and many tight hugs that hurt but healed.

"You aren't getting rid of us that easily," Atobe had said, and Tezuka had managed his first weak smile in the hospital.

2.

Sanada, not Fuji, had been insistent on the visit to the shrine. He had chosen the kimono Tezuka would wear, an understated blue and green and gold that had seen Tezuka in better days.

In it, Tezuka felt uneasy. Before _it_, Tezuka had been--he dared think it--charismatic and quietly arresting. Now he drew attention too, but he suspected it was for the gaunt cheekbones that showed a little too prominently, or the walk that was not always steady nor assured. Sanada and Fuji pretended not to notice that Tezuka sat down so frequently, and Tezuka pretended he did not, either.

Recovery would take time, time that Tezuka now had again. It was enough to be here now.

3.

Fuji's argument with Sanada was quiet and strained, the equivalent of the Cold War within their domain. Sanada ignored Fuji's pointed words and barbs, and Fuji said progressively worse things in his mild tone as if he was not seeking to hurt Sanada with every syllable uttered.

Both of them mended their differences within minutes when Tezuka said "Please."

4.

They climbed the Matterhorn together that summer, Sanada never complaining, Fuji always smiling. Tezuka found the ascent much more difficult this time, but both of his companions were patient and tireless. The trip took three times the time it would have taken Tezuka alone before his illness, but from then on, the Matterhorn was linked in his mind with Sanada's unspoken pride and Fuji's beaming smile. The picture of the three of them together at the summit now hung in their apartment, framed. They had faced the camera in a row with Tezuka in the middle. Sanada's arm was wrapped around Tezuka's waist, and Fuji's hand rested on Tezuka's shoulder.

It had taken so long, and there had been times when they had rested and not advanced an inch because Tezuka could go no further that day. Yet that day on the summit, they proved beyond any doubt that Tezuka had emerged completely from the shadow of Death's embrace at last.

5.

They grew old together, quietly living life as they were, three close friends renting three apartments in a row. Seigaku, Hyoutei, and Rikkaidai eventually reconciled their differences, and sometimes Yukimura and Atobe would join them, as did Renji and Oishi and the rest of their teams, because men needed time to talk and renew friendships and drink. Their parties lasted well into the night, spilling out onto the corridor and back into another apartment, but as they grew older the antics were more restrained.

Tezuka had never thought before this that he would love the sight of middle-aged men talking and arguing quietly, laughing and clapping each other on the back, jovial teasing and reminiscing and sharing of pictures of children, pets, homes, cars, tennis rackets. But he did.

6.

When the time finally came for Tezuka, sixty years after he met Death that first time and bid a temporary farewell, Fuji and Sanada had preceded him. Fuji had departed four summers ago, Sanada last spring after the cherry blossoms had bloomed.

Oishi and Eiji now lived in Okinawa, though Tezuka had recently received a long letter in Oishi's still-careful handwriting. He'd mailed his reply yesterday, merely communicating life as usual. At their age, it was understood that any of them could leave at any time. They'd made their peace with that, six months after the first of Tezuka's junior high regulars had gone at last. It didn't stop Oishi from inviting Tezuka to live with them, or Tezuka from declining politely each time.

Atobe was still around, but his heirs ran the Atobe companies now. Just last week, Tezuka had listened to his old friend chuckle at his grandson's attempt to shut out the patriarch of the empire. Talk eventually moved to friends and those they had lost. With Fuji gone, Echizen raising feisty tennis-playing grandchildren in America, and the Golden Pair (truly golden now, Eiji had joked when they celebrated his sixty-fifth birthday) now in Okinawa, Tezuka kept mostly to himself nowadays. After Sanada's passing, he had lost touch with Rikkaidai. Hyoutei was mostly gone, though Shishido still occasionally called to give Atobe a piece of his mind.

"I'd ask to keep you, but I know you lack the wish to stay you once had," Atobe said.

Tezuka nodded. "Don't let that stop you," he said.

"Please. As if you mattered that much." Atobe forced a laugh. Close to his nineties, and yet as sprightly as he was at fifty. The grandson would feel Atobe Keigo's presence a long time yet. On the other hand, Tezuka had cheated death six decades before, but it was his turn soon, and they both knew it.

7.

Tezuka embraced the end. He had lived well, and he looked forward to the reunion. He'd spoken to Oishi over the phone just yesterday, and they'd said farewell. He'd wanted to leave in peace without mourners, and Oishi had understood.

On his deathbed, Tezuka smiled suddenly, and lifted his hand in a welcoming gesture. "Hello again. I've missed you both," he said quietly to thin air.

Then he laid his hand down beside him, and closed his eyes forever.

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Comments/concrit/bashcrit please? ;;;  



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